Never
by OnAMission
Summary: Sigyn's betrothed to Theoric, but her secret romance with Loki is still unknown to the kingdom. A question he asks breaks her more than she could ever imagine. Because, for now, it's seems like it'll never happen. Sigyn/Loki Two-shot
1. Chapter 1

Got bored, and so I write this Loki/Sigyn fic that's rather angsty. I usually don't write angsty stuff. :D

* * *

Loki sat with his back to the open balcony doors, not paying attention to anything that was behind him, or in front of him. What he was interested in was the small colony of lightning bugs that had taken refuge in a crevice of stone pillars.

Few people could ever sneak up on the dark prince, this young woman being one of them. Many in the past had tried their hand; the Warriors Three, Lady Sif, even Frigga had failed. This young woman was the only one who succeeded.

Thor always thought he was stealthy enough to fool his younger brother, but try as he might, Loki knew before he even began to attempt. Once, Thor had tried a tuck and roll across the room that failed miserably, and it turned into one of the most satisfying laughing fits Loki had ever gotten into.

"I know you're there."

The statement is said in a voice no louder than his usual tone, but even that sends chills up her spine.

"Good."

Sigyn sees his smile from the doorway of his chambers, her back pressed firmly against the frame. She's not supposed to be here. Ever. She could be punished by any means her betrothed Theoric thought fit.

But she didn't care.

Theoric was built like Thor. And Sigyn thought of Thor as a brother-type figure and nothing more. He had a somewhat kind but brash disposition. They'd played together as children, and never got along for more than ten minutes at a time. Just being around the man she was supposed to marry made her want to gag. Because he was too much like that older brother figure who only came around when called for.

Loki, though. Well…

Loki was… _intoxicating._

They hadn't done anything, nor would do anything, as long as Sigyn was betrothed to Theoric. That was a rule both of them had set long ago when they'd discovered their love. Back then, they'd also decided they would refrain from kissing each other too. Needless to say, that went out the window a week later.

Yet, every time she would see him out, her heart would race. Her chest would tighten, and it took all her concentration to even breath properly. This didn't happen at the best of times though, and her sisters began to take notice.

Her cheeks would turn bright red, doe-like eyes going wide. If he caught sight of her, he'd just laugh and give a reassuring smile, a fire burning in his own eyes that no one understood but her.

They were supposed to be a secret. And so far, he'd done a much better job at keeping it than she had.

He's all limbs and lanky perfection in her eyes, graceful and eloquent. Her eyes eat up this picture of him sitting in the middle of his balcony, moonlight falling over him like waves. Black pants and loose green tunic, short hair ruffled from the breeze. Criss-Cross on the floor, hunched over and staring at a spot on the wall.

He's _gorgeous._

"You're not allowed in here," he whispers, dangerously, and she hears it from inside with ease.

Swallowing hard, and calming her heart she replies, "I know."

He stands up slowly, long arms supporting his weight as his bare feet take on the job. He steps inside and closes the doors to the balcony, leaving the room entirely dark, besides the little bit of moonlight that streams through the window.

He presses his back to these doors, much like Sigyn is on the opposite end of the room.

"Did you break the rules just to stand there?"

His playful, dangerous tone sets her on edge. That cocked eyebrow and evil grin. She feels like melting chocolate.

"…No," she manages, eyes boring into his.

In less than a second, he's transported directly in front of her and she lets out a tiny squeal of surprise.

"Shhh, love," he smiles and covers her mouth with his hand, "They'll hear you."

Her blue doe eyes stare up at him and she nods slowly. He starts to remove his hand from her mouth and she pulls it back, kissing his palm.

"Hello," she grins, that happiness that only happens around Loki sets in.

His response to that is pushing her back into the door, capturing her lips with his own.

_She's intoxicating_ to _him_.

He loves the way she kisses him. Like it'll be the last time, but like it's also the first time. With the experience of a hundred kisses. And she's sweet, and surprising. And utter perfection.

He kisses her gently, scared that he'll break his delicate flower, but there's a power and hunger there that she senses whether he wants her to know about it or not.

His hands have moved from their places on the door to her waist, desperately pulling her to him.

Her tiny arms wrap around his neck, almost on tiptoes because of his height. He makes up for this by bending over slightly and practically picking her up.

Once he starts to feel light-headed, he knows that she already does, and probably has for the past five seconds. Loki pulls his lips away, resting his forehead on hers, so they can both breath.

"I missed you," she heaves, smiling and searching his eyes.

"I saw you at breakfast," he grins, brushing her nose with his.

They start slowly backing farther into the center of the room when Sigyn whispers, "Far too long for my taste."

Loki stops moving, an intensity raging in his eyes like no other, "Far, far too long."

Butterflies overtake her completely, yet she's the one who connects their lips before he's able to. His eyelids flutter halfway closed, irises rolling into the back of his head at the onslaught of emotions. Suddenly, there's not enough of her hair to explore, or her lips to trace.

He's in deep, and he knows it. Far deeper than anything else.

Her senses are overloaded with Loki. His unique, beautiful, scrumptious scent. Him running his fingers through her raven black hair. The taste of his soft, wet lips.

He feels like he's going to explode. Heart pounding through his tunic, he thinks about the way she's too gentle with him.

Eyes remaining closed, he breaks the kiss and murmurs, "Marry me."

And then pleads desperately not a second later with, "_Please_."

Sigyn wishes she could. Wishes it more than anything in the entire universe. To be able to wake up and see his face every morning. To have these kisses where they aren't secret. To be able to call him _hers_.

And suddenly, the fact comes crashing down to her that it won't _ever_ happen.

It feels like someone has ripped a hole out of her chest, and she can't breath. _She will never be allowed to have Loki. **Ever**._

A broken sob gets caught in her throat, and her cheeks turn red. His hands move to her arms, not having heard his love's cry.

Her fingers untangle themselves from his hair and slowly land on his chest, grasping at the fabric. Her face contorts into pain, and her sob comes from deep within. She starts crying, uncontrollably, and Loki's left to wonder what he said, or did to cause this.

"Love?" He asks quickly, trying to lift up her face in the darkness, "What is it?"

The name he'd given her years before causes a new wave of tears, and she manages to choke out, "I-I-I, ca-can, nev-nev-never have yo-you!"

If his heart was broken before because of their situation, now it's in crumbles. He crushes her to him, kissing every inch of the top of her head.

She doesn't stop crying, staining his shirt with her hot tears. They sear through him like fire, scarring him like no weapon ever had.

"Tell me this," he whispers while stroking her hair; he already knows the answer, "If you were able to, would you marry me?"

The question does what he'd intended. Sigyn's sobs start to die down, slowing and steadying with shaky breaths.

Where his shirt V's at the neck line, Sigyn starts peppering the bit of bare chest with kisses, "_Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes_," and he hears the tears starting again.

He feels a large droplet when the tip of her nose connects with his chest, her frame shaking in his arms.

"Shhhh, my love," he tries to calm her; his own eyes welling up, "Shhhhh."

Her fingernails dig slightly into his back, never wanting to let him go.

"You _don't_ understand," she whispers, "Once I'm married, I'll _never_ see you again."

"That's not true," he says, hugging her closer, "You'll still live in the palace. We'll still read together and practice magic."

"No, Loki. I'll never see you like I want to see you."

Loki has never wanted Theoric to go away more in his entire life.

"I'll never get to hold your hand again," she continues to softly cry, "Or go for secret walks in the Garden. _Or kiss you_."

A tear drops onto his own cheek, as he realizes what he's losing.

He's losing his flower. His beautiful, delicate little flower. His love.

_Sigyn._

He kisses her again, but this time it's more urgent. Needy. This kiss really is like it's going to be the very last one, and his lips try to memorize every detail about her own. Their tears mix together, and he doesn't think he's ever experienced anything this heart-breakingly beautiful.

"_Marry me_," he whispers, hungrily kissing her.

She nods, making a "Mmmhmmm," sound in the back of her throat.

Her fingers trace his jaw line, and start to tangle in his hair when he repeats, "_Marry me_."

"Yes," she softly replies when she gets the chance.

The kiss slows down, her hands moving to his neck, his to her waist.

"Marry me."

Again, she whispers, "Yes."

He pulls away, and starts to wipe away her tears with his long, elegant fingers. She does the same for him, fingers pausing over his high cheekbones.

The couch in front of the unlit fireplace takes it's two guest's easily. Loki getting closest to the back of the couch, then pulling Sigyn down in front of him.

They lay there, in silence. It speaks more than words would.

There's no way out of her engagement. To either man.

And Loki's determined to win.

"Marry me," he whispers, just as she's about to fall asleep in his arms.

"Always."

The answer heats him to his very core.

* * *

If you want it, this could be a possible two-shot. Just, please review!


	2. Chapter 2

"You are the most beautiful thing my eyes ever beheld," Loki says from the doorway, arms crossed across his chest, a tight smile.

Her blush sends a wave of pleasure through him, and her small frame steps down from the pedestal in front of the mirror. There's a reason she's in a silk white gown. Why she's got makeup on. Why her hair was pressed and ironed and curled and attacked with a fine tooth comb for this occasion.

And then there's another reason entirely.

It's the same reason she insisted that the stone of her necklace be emerald green instead of a large diamond.

And _he'd _picked it out for her.

"You jest, my Prince," she curtsies, and dismisses her maids that were to help her get dressed. They bow to the dark haired man quickly, and leave without so much as a word.

As soon as they're gone and the large doors have closed, he's closed the distance between them. The tight dress showed off all those curves he knew she had. Her hair flowed down in dark ringlets past her shoulders, a silver band around her head.

"You are the most beautiful thing my eyes ever beheld," he reiterates, staring deep into her bright blue eyes. They question him. Taunt him. Challenge him.

He grips her around the waist, feels the tautness of the dress under his fingertips, and kisses her. Releasing the tension in her muscles completely from the stress of the situation she'd been placed in. Then she realizes this will be the last kiss they shall ever share.

"I don't think it's proper for a woman to kiss another man before her wedding," she forces the smile onto her face, demands her tears stay out of her eyes.

A large smile lights up his face, like she's never seen before. His eyes are flaming green, an insane happiness lurking behind those irises.

"I love you," he says simply, hand on her cheek. Tears are wet in his eyes, and she isn't sure if he's acting on her behalf, or what.

A lone tear breaks her wall of concentration as it glides down her cheek, and it only makes his grin wider.

"Do not cry, my love," he quietly laughs aloud, wiping away the droplet of water with his thumb, "You'll ruin your makeup."

His mood of joy is contagious, despite the impending doom of the morning, and she laughs as more tears fall. His hand falls from her cheek and she grasps both in her hands, "It's waterproof. They expect me to cry on my wedding day."

"With a man like Theoric, anyone in her right mind would cry," he giggles, making Sigyn wonder if he'd been drinking.

"Why are you so happy?" She smiles, briefly touching his cheek and underneath his shining eyes.

He leans into the palm, closing his eyes at the warm touch, "Because I'm in love."

"Is it your goal to be as silly as possible?" Smirking, she runs the hand through his hair.

"You are the one who is going to walk down that aisle today," he says, "Do not look for me in the crowd."

She hadn't expected him to be there. That seemed like too much of a burden, and she didn't want him to watch this union. It would be torture.

Sniffing, he reopens his eyes and leans down to give her one last, chaste kiss.

"I love you," Sigyn whispers when he releases her and he gives her a much smaller smile.

There's a knock on the door and they both jump backward from each other and Loki quickly wipes his eyes before the intruder steps in.

"Sigyn!" Thor's boisterous voice booms, crossing the room quickly and embracing his friend in a tight hug.

"Hello Thor," she smiles politely and returns the hug that's crushing her.

Loki sees her distress, "Thor, you're suffocating her."

"Am I?" He genuinely asks, trying to look down at her, "I'm sorry Lady Sigyn."

Thor releases her, and she gulps in a large breath of air, smiling, "Quite alright Thor."

"Your groom is hidden away in his room," Thor smiles, "and won't allow anyone entry. I believe he's nervous."

Loki's got one arm crossed across his chest, the other propped up by the elbow, hand over his mouth. He's trying not to laugh.

"What is so funny, brother?"

Tears are shining in the younger prince's eyes as he laughs silently. His voice cracks when he tries to explain himself. But he never manages to get through the whole sentence, and instead holds out his arms for a final hug from Sigyn.

She feels him shaking with laughter in her arms, and that, it seems, is contagious as well. She giggles in his ear quietly, so Thor doesn't hear, "What have you done, naughty boy?"

Loki just shakes his head, releasing her and grinning like a loon. After planting a short, soft kiss on her forehead he whispers, "Later, love." Scrunching his nose, he tries to stop the laughing fit, to no avail. Sigyn can't help but stare into his flaming green eyes and try to figure out what he's done to Theoric.

"I'm off," Loki smiles, waving his hand in the air as he reaches the door, "Try not to miss me too much."

"No problem," Sigyn snorts, waiting until he was completely out the door before looking back to Thor.

With Loki gone, Thor didn't have much to say. It became awkwardly evident.

"Uh…"

"Well," Sigyn starts, going back to the mirror, "I need to finish getting ready. But thank you, my Prince, for wishing me well."

* * *

He had it all planned out. Theoric had been pushed out of the way… seamlessly. It would take days to find him in the forests outside of the Main City. Despite all the things that Loki had been called, completely heartless wasn't one of the true ones.

Leaving Theoric wandering through the forest wasn't going to kill the man, he was a warrior; he'd find food on his own. Now Loki was free to pursue whomever he wished…

Pausing at his mirror, he adjusted the band on his best suit of armor. It was sleek, and almost entirely leather, except for those few pieces of metal that decided to appear. He slicked back his hair once more, making sure that everything was in place as it should be. If this wedding were actually supposed to occur between Sigyn and him, he would've been forced into a white gaudy thing that no prince before him had probably volunteered to wear.

However, since he was going to be disguised for the entire ceremony, there no real reason he couldn't wear what he wished. My goodness, it was _his _wedding. _Why let others tell you how it must be?_

* * *

Her stomach dropped out from under her, a uncomfortable lump formed in her throat, her eyes became full with unshed, defiant tears, her pale white fingers frozen like ice, and her heart died when she saw the tall, bulky figure standing at the end of the aisle.

She shouldn't be made to continue through with this. Even the humans on Midgard had more of a choice than she, with the whole, "I object" thing. Not here. Not now, not ever. She was betrothed to Theoric, and so no other may replace him. There were no divorces. No annulments. No breaking of engagements.

No hope.

Her knees threaten to give way as she takes the first step down the long white row. Sigyn sees her mother in the crowd, tears pouring down her smiling face. Her sisters watch in awe, even though she is the youngest and the last to be married. Iwaldi, her father, is at her side, clasping her right hand. Sigyn wonders fleetingly if he notices how cold she's become.

_Who's idea was it_, she wants to scream aloud, _to force me to marry someone I can never hope to love?_

She's expected to stare at him the entire way to the alter, but she refuses. Keeping her eyes on the white path that is leading to her doom, Sigyn defies what is expected. She will not look at him. Not until forced.

Her thoughts turn to Loki.

_What is he doing at this very moment? Will he attempt to disappear again like he had when he first heard of my impending nuptials? How soon can I see him after this is all said and done?_

And the biggest question of all: _What will I do when I see him?_

After what seems like an eternity, her father kisses her hand, and sets her to climbing up the few stairs to where Theoric and King Odin wait. Her fiancé holds out his hand for her to take, and with trembling fingers she gives it. A tight, reassuring squeeze makes her glance up at his face quickly, finding that he's already looking forward at Odin.

The point comes to where they must face each other, and try as she might, Sigyn has to look at him now. Although she begins to imagine a completely different sight than the one she's given. First that head of blond hair changes to a slicked back, jet black style. Those blue eyes change their color to a mischievous bright green. _His_ cheekbones are higher. _His_ jaw line is much more defined. _His_ lips are another matter entirely, and Sigyn forces herself to stop on that one, for fear of losing herself to the fantasy.

Because _he's_ not here.

_He's_ not the one promising to be hers forever. _He's_ not the one devoting his love.

Her heart shatters further, and with great difficultly she keeps a smile on her face. The tears are pouring now, and everyone watching assumes that it's out of happiness. They think that she's so overwhelmed with her love for him that it's impossible to hold it in.

_They_ don't know anything.

Her Loki is gone. She can't have him. That realization dawns more forcefully than it had a few weeks ago alone with Loki. Her voice trembles and shakes with every promise and vow she gives. Her bottom lip quivers when Odin announces that they are now joined forever, and that Theoric may kiss the bride.

He's gentle. And kind. Soft.

Nothing like any other Theoric kiss she'd ever received.

Long arms wrap around her waist, slender fingers pressing into her back. That _smell_ overwhelms her senses, making her suck in a sharp breath. She feels a smile grace his lips as he kisses her, his nose tickling her eyelashes. And it's all too familiar, so Sigyn kisses back as forcefully as she dares in front of Asgard.

She's not so involved that she doesn't hear the cumulative gasp from the spectators. Not surprised at her mother's scream. Unaffected by Odin's yell of his younger son's name.

Her heart explodes, her mind whizzes a mile a second, coming to terms of what had happened.

Loki. Loki. Loki. How she _loved_ that name.

Sigyn just continues kissing him, hugging him close, and denying anyone his audience but herself. When really, this may not have been the wisest thing to do.

Loki is the one to break her kiss, knowing above anyone else that she wouldn't stop, "Father, I-"

"What have you done?" His father booms, his face one of outrage. He's asked a question, but doesn't allow the younger man to answer, instead yelling that he go to the throne room at once. Loki nods, and makes a move to leave, but Sigyn grasps his hand and begins the journey with him.

"I love you," she whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. The smile that graces his face tells her everything.

Neither of them care what Odin has to say on the matter, because they both have what they wanted. And nothing could ever change that.

"And I love you," he whispers back, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her up the aisle into the palace.

* * *

Welp... that's it. I know it took a lot longer to get this second part, but you know, school, vacation, my Tom Hiddleston story that has become much, much bigger than I had anticipated... :D

Ehehehehe, anyways, I hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review and tell me how I did!


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